


Starkers

by TheLoneRebels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathtub Discoveries, F/M, Incoming smut, Not Exactly Sleeping Beauty but he's Something, Romantic Fluff, reunited with old friends, sevmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneRebels/pseuds/TheLoneRebels
Summary: Thanks to Nagini's complicated venom, Severus Snape has been in a coma for years. When he finally wakes up, an angel greets him and Severus is smart enough to leap on the slice of heaven on earth that Hermione Granger is more than happy to share with him.M for now. Rating will go up when the lemons show up! :P
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 52
Kudos: 151





	1. Awakening

**Hello there!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters and any OC's that resemble real people are entirely coincidental.**

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**Starkers **

**Awakening:**

_Sept 19th, 2006. 8 years after the Battle of Hogwarts…_

When Severus Snape finally clawed his way up from the black and desolate abyss of absolute nothingness he’d been trapped in for what felt like an eternity, his first sensation was that of floating weightlessly in a sea of gently undulating warmth.

His second sensation was the familiar one of a flannel being run over his body, but he was almost certain it wasn’t himself doing the washing.

Why?

Because the continued darkness indicated his eyes were closed, and his limbs felt like they were in that just tingling to wakefulness stage that indicated very little muscle coordination would be possible at the moment.

Since the sensation of being carefully washed along every millimetre of his left arm and hand was pleasant and not yet alarming, his mind felt free to process another stimulant; smell.

His sensitive nose first picked up the scent of coconut, quickly followed by the more subtle scents of frankincense and copaiba. This was coming from the water he seemed to be immersed in, and he approved of the scents chosen and their many useful properties. The next scent he picked up was that of sandalwood soap as the soft terrycloth was passed across his collarbones on its way to work on his right arm.

Severus approved of that choice as well, since it was his preferred scent to bathe himself in.

And if he concentrated, he could feel the slender fingers holding that cloth, which was an enticing thought. Further enticing him was the subtle scent of lavender, chamomile, and clean female that seemed to hover above him, presumably from the person attached to the flannel.

Severus was intrigued by this mystery person who was giving him a bath. They had a good grasp of scent, oils, and their uses, if nothing else.

And they were humming softly under their breath, he realized, the subtle vibrations and sweet tone of it pleasant to his ears.

With the return of his sense of touch and smell, his hearing had suddenly decided to make a reappearance as well, like his brain was slowly but surely relearning how to interpret the signals from the world around him.

It took him a minute of concentration, but Severus felt triumphant when he finally recognized the tune as belonging to ‘The Skye Boat Song’, which just happened to be a song his mother used to sing him to sleep with when he was little.

Based on what he’d learned thus far, Severus could only conclude that he was either dreaming of when he was a young child, being bathed by his mother, or he was quite dead and an angel had chosen to personally wash him of the dirt and blood he last remembered being covered in before allowing him to continue his ascension into the Great Beyond.

As much as he’d loved his mother, Severus was kind of rooting for option two.

And not only because he was intrigued by this angel of mercy, but because he was quite done with life and all the miserable trials that he had endured thus far. He honestly had nothing to live for at this point as far as he could remember. He was done.

He’d kept his promises to Dumbledore. Endured years worth of abuse from Voldemort and his followers. Taught more imbecilic children than one should ever have to deal with in a dozen lifetimes. And he’d done his duty to Lily’s memory and assisted her son as much as he could, even going so far as to give him some of his most precious memories as he felt Nagini’s venom doing its vicious work through his systems.

Unfortunately, now that those memories were gone, Severus couldn’t quite remember what they were, only that something very important to him was now missing from his mind.

 _I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway,_ he thought with a very slight sigh that caused the one washing him to freeze her movements of the flannel over his chest, right over his heart, in fact. He only absently noticed as he continued his line of thought. _If I’m dead, then those memories aren’t going to do me any good anymore anyway._

His mouth twitched up at the corner as wry amusement filled him. _That was a lot of ‘anys’ in one sentence._

The flannel was removed from his body and the angel above him inhaled sharply, no longer humming. “Did it work? Did I finally find the right blend of anti-venoms to cure him?” the angel whispered.

_What?_

_Anti-venom?_

_Cure?_

_Am I not dead?_

With what felt like a considerable more effort than it should have cost him, Severus pried his eyelids open and looked up into a blurry but nicely shaped face surrounded by a halo of big hair. Very big hair. He squinted and blinked, trying to see better with how she was backlit by a light that was much too bright for his poor eyes. “Wh…” he croaked from a throat tight and unused to being exercised. He swallowed and tried again. “Who are…”

_Marginally better._

“Merlin, you're awake!” the angel breathed. “I healed you! I finally healed you!” She disappeared from his line of sight, but he could still hear her talking. And pacing. “Holy shite! I can’t believe it! I actually healed him. Everyone told me to give up years ago, to take him back to St. Mungo’s and let them deal with the unresponsive Snape zombie, but I didn’t and now…”

Severus couldn’t even be mad that she hadn’t answered his question, because she was answering others all on her own.

“Circe. Eight bloody long years and over four hundred different potion experiments, and I finally healed him. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

_Eight years? EIGHT YEARS?! I’ve been, what, in a coma or something for eight years?! Holy shite is right._

_And why does her voice sound disconcertingly familiar?_

_Wait a minute. Insane hair, talented with potions, and the stubborn determination of a lioness?_

_Fuck._

Inspired to kick-start his still tingling body into motion Severus convinced his arms to move enough so that he could push against the bottom of the bathtub. He managed to prop himself up just enough so that he could see over the edge of what turned out to be a tub easily big enough for two and was quite deep.

And there she was, pacing the length of the relatively large and luxurious bathroom, not looking at him at all as she pushed a lock of that crazy bush she called hair out of her eyes and mumbling to herself; Hermione Granger.

_Double fuck._

But not the budding woman he last remembered her being. Oh no. Now she was definitely a full-grown witch with the curves to prove it. All barely covered in some sort of loose, white, diaphanous nightgown that left her slender arms and lower legs bare and that the bright lights in the bathroom seemed ideally suited to shine right through. His reawakening body seemed to like the sight very much.

_Triple fuck._

Severus cleared his throat as deliberately as he could manage, inspiring the Gryffindor witch to look up at him, her deep whiskey eyes wide. “Professor Snape! You’re…”

“Miss Granger,” he rasped, cutting her off, his arms already shaking slightly from the effort of holding himself up, but not completely useless like he would have expected after eight years with no exercise. He spared half a second to glance at an arm and was surprised to see real muscle definition in it. And beyond that, his hair hung in long, soaked strands and had to be at least as long as Lucius’. He did an actual double take before mentally shaking it off. _What the fuck? More questions. But for now…_ “Would you please care to explain to me why I am completely starkers in what I assume is your bathtub while you take liberties with my person?”

Hermione blushed. And not just a becoming darkening over her fine cheekbones, but an entire sweep of red from her forehead to her partially exposed and perfectly proportioned chest. Severus was secretly amused, even if he didn’t let his expression slip from the stern façade he’d adopted; he always did love to disconcert people.

“Professor I, um, crap,” she stammered before sucking in a breath and quite obviously mentally girding herself to act like an adult as she approached the tub and knelt beside it, putting them at a similar eyelevel. Her gaze was serious and piercing. “Severus.”

_And apparently as equals. Interesting._

“You have been under my exclusive care for the last seven years, ever since I took you out of St. Mungo’s because they had given up on trying to heal you and were just going through the motions of keeping your body alive.”

_I wouldn’t expect anything less, to be honest._

“There is not even a square millimetre of your skin that I don’t know personally.”

_That… Could be intriguing, actually._

“I have fed you, clothed you, dealt with your bodily wastes,”

_Cringe._

“exercised your muscles for you,”

_That explains why I’m not a limp noodle._

“poured enough potions down your throat to sink a ship, and yes, even bathed you. All while still putting in six hours of work every day at the Ministry in two separate shifts. If you can’t deal with that, then all I can say to you is fuck you.”

 _Whoa. Just whoa._ Severus was astonished at her blunt frankness, and he respected her for it. He was also seriously impressed and couldn’t seem to work up any sort of real embarrassment about her seeing to his needs either, and didn’t feel like wondering why at the moment. _Maybe later._

The tingling in his limbs had finally stopped and he felt like he could maybe move to a more comfortable position. So he did, slowly but surely twisting around so that he was kneeling in the tub and looking at Hermione straight on. “I have just one question.” (He was happy his voice was working better now too.)

She raised a finely shaped eyebrow, resting her crossed arms on the edge of the tub and propping her chin on them. “And that would be?”

He leaned forward a few fractions closer, searching her eyes for the truth even as he asked his question. “Why bother with me when no one but my mother has ever cared to?”

She tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning his face in return. “That’s why. Because no one has ever cared to and you deserved so much better than that. You’re the most unselfish and self-sacrificing person I’ve ever met, a true hero, and no one knew or cared to know. If not for you, we wouldn’t have won the war and finally defeated Voldemort for good. If not for you, so many more lives would have been lost. You deserve to be properly cared for by at least one person in your adult life, and I decided that person was going to be me.”

Severus was speechless. Flat out speechless. And that very rarely happened to him. _I can’t… I can’t believe that she would do this for me. Me. The most hated person to ever stalk the halls of Hogwarts. But she did, obviously. And she’s telling the truth. There’s no deceit in her thoughts. None at all. If anything, there’s a vulnerable hint of affection for me hidden at the back of her mind._

_Did she actually like me as a teacher? As a person?_

_I would have thought it inconceivable, but her thoughts doesn’t lie. Her actions don’t lie. Her dedicated care for me most certainly doesn’t lie._

_How can I ever repay her for not letting me rot in a bed somewhere indefinitely?_

“Miss Granger.” He swallowed hard. “Tha…”

“Hermione,” she said, cutting him off, the beginnings of a smile curling up her lips. “You’ll probably never remember them, but we’ve had some incredible one-sided conversations, and aside from the fact that you're not my grouchy teacher anymore, I think we’ve certainly been intimate enough to be on a first name basis.”

Severus felt his own mouth curve upwards in a rare smile at the witch’s gentle teasing. He nodded once in acceptance. “Hermione then. Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. I am forever in your debt. Whatever you want, if I can get it or do it for you, I will.”

It was strange, but unlike the previous times he’d pledged his life to someone, Severus didn’t feel like he’d just been shackled to a hundred pound iron ball. For once, he genuinely wanted to live in servitude to another person. Wanted to make this beautiful witch happy in whatever way he could.

Hermione, of course, shook her head with a smile, reaching forward with one of her elegant little hands and cupped his cheek after brushing a strand of his ridiculously long hair behind his ear. He almost jumped at the touch, but then found himself leaning into it like an attention starved cat. “No, Severus. You owe me nothing. I’ve learned a lot about myself and who my real friends are thanks to you. I’ve also patented three new potions that I invented just for you and they’ve made me quite well off. If anything, I owe you for being my guinea pig. You unknowingly helped me invent a new potion for the care of fine hair, one that cleans and whitens teeth without a toothbrush, and one that can build muscle tone even in the laziest subject.” She smiled at the last, pleased with her own wit.

He laughed softly, agreeing with her. _Can’t get any more lazy than comatose._

She’d caressed his face the entire time she’d been talking, and Severus felt like he would have started purring if he could. The eight years of coma aside, it had been so very long since anyone had touched him with a loving hand. He raised his own hand and cupped hers, turning his head and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Then we’ll call it even,” he murmured against her skin.

“All right,” she whispered back, sounding breathless.

Severus looked at her eyes and found them trained on their joined hands and the very clear thought of, _How many times have I imagined this?_ at the forefront of her mind, easy for him to read.

_Is that so?_

Curious, and feeling more than a little hot beneath the warm and perfectly scented water, Severus curled his fingers around hers and kissed her knuckles, keeping his eyes trained on hers. “Thank you, my angel.”

Her pupils dilated and she thought, _Merlin help me._

He hid a smile behind her hand. _Not Merlin, but I’ll see what I can do._

“I’m not an angel,” she protested, shaking her head and looking slightly dazed.

He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. “To me, you are. It was the first thing I thought as I was waking up; that there was an angel humming to me while she bathed me with the most perfect touches.”

Hermione blushed again, but this one was deliciously becoming as it spread across her cheekbones and her eyes lowered to stare at the edge of the tub. He’d embarrassed her. _Oops. Too much?_

"I… I guess I should leave you to finish your own bath," she stammered slightly. "The blue bottle is your soap, and the amber one is your shampoo.”

_Definitely too much. Now to fix it._

_I hope._

She moved to get up, but Severus didn’t relinquish his hold on her fingers. He tugged her back down as she looked at him questioningly. “Hermione. Is there anyone in your life who would object if you were to continue bathing an awake and aware me?”

Her eyes shot to his and went wide as she understood the implications of his question. “No,” she said in a near squeak, shaking her head slowly. “No one. Ron left me when I brought you home and no one else has interested me since.”

_I always knew that particular Weasley was a dunderhead._

“Is it bad of me to say that I’m glad?” Severus asked tentatively.

She shook her head again, her ruby lips starting to curve upwards again. “Are you asking me to continue your bath, Severus?”

 _Maybe the angel thing wasn't too much after all._ He reached with his free hand to touch her humidity inspired curls, brushing some back behind her ear like she’d done to him. They were soft and felt decidedly different from his own hair, but he liked them. A lot. He’d always thought her hair was a good barometer for her mood - it tended to get bigger in a manifestation of her magic when she was passionate about something - and helped make her unique amongst thousands. “I am,” he rumbled. “In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed if you were to join me in the tub to do it. IF that’s something you would be interested in, that is.”

She smiled wider, her eyes starting to shine with happiness as she leaned closer to him. “I might be persuaded.”

His heart picked up the pace at the poorly hidden fantasies rolling through her mind. He closed the distance between them even further, wrapping one of her long curls around his fingers and tugging on her other hand to pull her even closer. “And what would it take to do that?” he breathed against her mouth, their noses almost touching.

“Not much,” she admitted, her hand tugging out of his to rest on his shoulder. Her other hand slowly joined it on his other shoulder.

Severus cupped her face and closed the last inch of distance between them, brushing his lips against hers once, then twice, and then pulling back. “Is that enough?”

Her eyes fluttered open again and she smiled at him coyly. “Hmmm. Not quite.”

“Then I shall endeavour to try a little harder,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than normal even to himself. He brushed his mouth against hers again and then stayed there as her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer over the edge of the tub.

Her hum of approval was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.


	2. Interrupted

**Interrupted:**

If she wasn’t floating in a cloud of sensual nirvana, Hermione would probably still be shocked about the turn of events that had led to her mouth being explored in the most wicked fashion by one incredibly brilliant and brave ex Death Eater.

But she was, so her mile-a-minute brain was currently on holiday from the knowledge that she’d finally succeeded in curing Severus Snape and that in only ten minutes of conversation, she was suddenly being kissed by a former teacher that used to treat her like an annoyance and her best friends like dirt. In fact, her brain was nearly entirely on hiatus regarding everything. The only thought that seemed to be featuring was, _Good, good, so freaking good._

Because Severus Snape was good at kissing. Really good. So very thorough and deliberate in every one of his actions. His lips moved over hers with the fine touch of a master and his tongue caressed hers like a connoisseur of everything that made her nerve endings explode with sensation.

He put Ron’s overly wet and enthusiastic kisses to shame.

And Victor’s too forceful ones that left her lips feeling bruised.

And that wizard from the accounting department that had thought she was desperate enough to want the kisses of a Merlin wannabee with the arms of an octopus and a mouth like a sucker to match.

In short, Severus was proving himself to be just as good a lover in reality as he was in her dreams.

_Or maybe I’m dreaming right now._

_If that’s the case, I really, really don’t want to wake up._

She whimpered slightly with disappointment when he removed his mouth from hers. His deep chuckle had her opening her eyes to look directly into his bottomless obsidian ones. “More,” she whispered, clutching the back of his head.

He stroked her cheeks with large thumbs, smiling in a way she was sure she’d never seen from him before. “Of course I’ll give you more, but I was hoping you would first join me inside the tub. My knees are starting to hurt from kneeling on the porcelain and this would be so much better if we didn’t have the barrier of a hard bathtub between us, don’t you think?”

The deep rumble of his voice was like a shot of bliss to her ears.

And other parts.

Which is why it took her brain a few seconds longer than it should have to actually process his words and come up with an appropriate answer.

And also why she acted like a wild person in the next moment.

Hermione blinked and then lunged over the tub and on top of him with a squealed out, “Gods, yes!” that had them both tumbling into the water and all but drowning him before they managed to readjust with much splashing, sputtering, and flying limbs so that she was kneeling around his thighs as he reclined against the back of the tub.

With his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders, and their hair floating around them in the deep water like soggy masses of brown and black seaweed, Hermione gasped out, “I’m sorry!”

Severus snorted, his black eyes twinkling and his perfectly shaped mouth twitching with amusement as he shook his head at her. “I should have known you’d get in with your usual Gryffindor enthusiasm and been better prepared.”

She shook her head back at him. “I’m still sorry. You made me lose all sense of reason for a minute there.”

His eyes gleamed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He ran his hands up and down her sides overtop of her drenched nightgown, making her gasp at how amazing that felt, as he rumbled out, “Do you want me to do it again?”

There was only one correct answer to that question.

And ‘no’ wasn’t it.

“Yes please,” she whispered in a tone as polite as can be.

“Good,” he husked back, ebony eyes flashing with an inner fire that lit her own even hotter.

Severus drew her closer to him, sliding her forwards so she was over his narrow waist now. Her hands tangled in his wet hair. And then his mouth was feathering over hers again with a groan of pleasure from deep in his chest.

His long fingered hands on her back that hugged them together and caressed at the same time was everything she could hope for. He was gently insistent but not demanding or pushy. He didn’t try and force their hips together before she was ready for that. Nor did he grab at her arse like a, well, arse.

He was being a perfect gentleman considering he was naked and she was all but.

He hadn’t even flicked his eyes down to gawk at her chest in her nightgown that must be see-through now. 

There was definitely something to be said for taking a lover who was older and possessed some actual self-control.

“Severus,” she murmured reverently into his caressing kisses. “Everything I dreamed, I swear.”

He pulled his mouth from hers and their eyes met for a moment before he turned his attention to laying butterfly kisses all over her face and neck. Kisses that made her want to giggle and squirm, but the words he said back in between his kisses kept her still. “I must admit that it does crazy things to me to hear you say that, but I can’t say the same about you. The last memory I have of you is of a school girl with too much responsibility on her young shoulders, forced to grow up too soon. And no matter how mature you were for your age at the time, I never let myself fantasize about school girls. What I can say is that the beautiful woman I woke up to is everything I could wish for in a witch for my very own; smart, dedicated, sexy as hell, and best of all, not revolted by my past sins.”

She thrilled at his description of her, since there were very few who would actually call the insane hair that came with her (in her opinion) average features and body ‘sexy as hell’, but her heart broke yet again for him when his most important requirement was that a witch not be turned off by the things he’d done in the past. Things, for the most part she was sure, had been done in the name of the greater good for all of wizardkind.

Hermione let go of his silky wet hair to cup his hard jaw and bring their gazes back together. Then she told him very seriously, “Severus Snape, there is nothing you could confess about your past that would make me leave this tub right now, or your life anytime in the future. Even if we eventually come to the conclusion that we’re not compatible as lifelong partners, it would be my honour to always be your friend if you’ll let me.”

His hands tightened on her back convulsively before he tensed almost to the point of being a carved-in-stone statue under her. “Hermione,” he breathed, her name sounding like a prayer in his amazing voice that could drip honey or scorn with equal finesse. “That’s too much to ask. You don’t even really know me. Or the things I’ve done.”

“I know enough,” she refuted. “I know that you hate teaching children and yet you always gave your students one hundred percent of your attention. I know you have a noble, self-sacrificing heart. I know you love books and knowledge as much as I do. I know you’re a brilliant and powerful wizard with a talent for inventing potions, curses, and spells that was frankly wasted as a teacher. I know you're loyal to the point of obsession to those who earn your respect. I know you'd rather be alone than in a crowd. I know you have the dry wit and intelligence of Sherlock. I know you're really a Prince and should be just as haughty as the Malfoys but you aren't. I know your Patronus is a doe in honour of your first love. I know that you must be a good person whether you act like it or not simply because you can actually manifest a Patronus. And finally, I know from the scars on your body that you endured terrible abuse for most likely your entire life. Which means your home life must have sucked and your stint as one of Voldemort’s minions must have sucked even worse.”

He sighed, sliding down into the tub a few more inches and letting his head bump back against the rim as he looked up at the ceiling. “That is all very true. Especially the last part. I did terrible things as a Death Eater that made me sick, but I had little choice. Failure to comply with my Lord’s wishes left me near death on dozens of occasions over the years, and those were just the occurrences where I thought I could get away with interpreting his orders creatively.”

Hermione stroked his pained brow in sympathy and he tilted his head forward to look at her again, capturing her hand and grasping it gently before saying, “I suppose it was all worth it, though, if we won in the end.” He paused and looked at her with widening eyes. And there was more than a hint of panic in his tone when he said, “We did win, didn’t we? We’re not living in a land of oppression and misery?”

Hermione smiled reassuringly, lacing her fingers with his, absently marvelling at how much larger his hand was than hers. “Yes, we won. I doubt I would still be alive if we hadn’t.”

Severus sighed in relief as he squeezed their laced fingers together carefully in gratitude and acknowledgement, then placed their linked hands over his heart. “That’s good. And you’re probably right. Voldemort had no intentions of letting any muggle-borns live. And the half-bloods such as myself were looking at short lifespans as well. Or taking infertility potions at the very least so we couldn’t further dilute the gene pool.”

Hermione shuddered. “Merlin. I’m so glad that Harry beat that evil, evil man.” 

He raised a sharply winged eyebrow. “So Potter survived then?”

“He did.”

“Surprising.”

“Well, he did have to die first, but I have a feeling you knew that, didn’t you?”

“I was aware, yes. I just didn’t know that the Boy Wonder would perform even more miracles and resurrect himself.”

Hermione laughed softly at his put-upon tone and pinched look of disdain. “I’m sorry you’ll have to suffer through more of his presence in your life, considering that he’s still my best friend.”

“Lovely.” His dry tone was anything but impressed. “I may just pretend to still be comatose whenever Potter comes around.”

“Hermione?!”

They both turned to look through the open bathroom door from where the distant echo of her name had come from.

“It’s like I just magicked him here,” Severus muttered under his breath, scowling.

“Hermione?! Where are you?! Don’t you know what day it is?!”

Hermione squeaked and scrambled off of her wizard in a slightly more graceful fashion than she’d fallen on him and ejected herself from the tub. “Crap, crap, crap!” she whisper-cursed as she dripped all over the floor.

A whoosh of warm air came from beside her and suddenly she was dry from head to toe. Hermione looked at Severus in surprise. “Did you just do that without a wand?” she said as in quiet amazement.

Severus shrugged his broad shoulders casually. “Why not?”

“Blimey. You just woke up after being all but dead for eight and a half years.”

He wiggled his fingers at her. “Doesn’t make a difference apparently. You either have magic or you don’t.”

She blinked. “Good to know.”

“HERMIONE! Stop hiding! You’re getting out of this house for once whether you like it or not!” This was from the less than dulcet tones of one Ginny Potter.

Hermione looked from Snape to the door that led into her bedroom (she was very grateful that door was closed, at least) and back again. “I have to go. Unless you want them to see you awake?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. Not yet. I think I like being essentially dead to everyone else for the moment.”

She smiled at him softly. “I understand. I won’t tell them yet.” She moved a step towards the door and then looked back at him. “Enjoy your bath. I’ll hopefully be back in a few hours.”

“I will, thank you.” His smile was genuine, full of white teeth, and made her heart skip again. Then he tilted his elegant (if prominently nosed) head slightly. “What day is it, anyhow? It can’t be Christmas.”

She snorted. “No. It’s my birthday. And my friends refuse to let me forget it.”

And with that, she hurried out of the bathroom to change into something suitable for a night on the town. Hopefully an abbreviated one.

Because she had no desire to dance or meet new wizards or get hopelessly wasted. All she wanted to do was rush back into the tub with Severus and continue where they’d left off before they’d started talking.


	3. Exploring

**Exploring:**

Without Hermione in the tub with him to keep it interesting, Severus had little interest in lingering in the water.

So he made quick work of all the usual ablutions with the quality supplies she’d provided as he listened with avid curiosity to the conversation taking place in the room next door.

“Chillax, Ginny!” Hermione practically yelled only moments after she left the bathroom. “I’m just getting dressed!”

“Oh, good,” the other girl’s ( _woman’s?)_ voice came back, somewhat more muffled but just as loud. “Can I come in?”

There was a pause as the bathroom door suddenly closed all by itself with a gentle ‘snick’, and then Hermione answered, “Sure. Make yourself at home. You always do anyway.”

Thanks to the now closed door, he just barely caught the last part that had probably not been meant to be heard, but he had anyway courtesy of his better-than-average hearing he was sure was connected to his innate ability to eavesdrop on other peoples' thoughts. He chuckled softly, not surprised that the bold red-head had no qualms about making her presence known; she’d always been a bit of spitfire in his classes, not taking any crap from him or her Slytherin classmates. She’d also lost a lot of points from her House total thanks to that attitude, but he had no doubt it served her well in the real world.

He heard another door open and Ginevra Weasley tell Potter (he assumed it was just Potter, anyway) to go wait for them in the living room. Footsteps faded away and came closer at the same time and then a door closed. Immediately followed by an exasperated sounding, “Oh, come on! You’re not wearing that to go out! Surely you can do better? In fact, I know you can do better. Where’s that pretty blue dress I got you for Christmas last year?”

“There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing,” Hermione protested, making Severus snort under his breath as he rubbed shampoo into his obscenely long hair. “It’s not like I’m trying to attract a mate or anything.”

Severus thrilled to his very toes to hear that. _Good, because I think you’re already taken, sweet angel._

Ginny heaved an audible sigh. “Be that as it may, Hermione, there’s still no good reason for you to wear jeans and one of my Mum’s knitted jumpers for your birthday dinner.”

Having seen more than enough samples of Molly Weasley’s knitting endeavours over the years, Severus had to agree with the younger Weasley witch. _I wouldn’t mind seeing Hermione in a tight pair of jeans, though. I bet her arse would look amazing in them, appalling as the rough material is or not._

“I don’t see why not,” Hermione said defensively and he imagined her sticking her bottom lip out as she crossed her arms over her bountiful chest. The image stirred his blood back to life. (Not that it had truly settled yet.) “I’m covered and I’m comfortable and that’s good enough for me.”

Ginny heaved another sigh. “At least let me do something with your hair? You look like what would happen if Medusa and a tumble weed got busy.” 

Severus nearly choked on the bark of laughter he had to strangle into silence. _Merlin._

“Fine,” Hermione grumbled and then he heard the sound of a body thumping into a chair. “Have at it.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said sweetly. A few moments later… “Merlin, I always forget how difficult your hair is to work with. Do you have any Sleekeazy?” 

“I’m all out.”

Severus looked at the bathroom counter and saw a new looking bottle of the hair product right by the sink. He smiled to himself. _Turning herself into a liar to spare me. How sweet._

“Fine,” Ginny huffed. “I’ll make do with just my wand. Thank Circe for magic.”

He’d had that exact same thought about a million times over the course of his life and thought it once again with a wry smile after he rose from the tub and stepped out, then dried himself with a quick and silent spell. Then he vanished the soapy water from the tub with another wave of his hand followed by a silent _scourgify,_ and the white porcelain was gleaming like new. As he walked over to the mirror on somewhat unsteady legs that gained confidence with every step, mumblings and faint curses came from the other room from both girls while the untamable mane of curls was apparently subdued to some degree.

Severus studied the reflection of his face and upper torso with clinical interest. He wasn’t all that surprised that even with the passing of time, he looked at least a few years younger than he had before his almost demise, considering he’d been running on stress and adrenaline for much too long, which had left him looking haggard, pale, and worn to the point of breaking. Now he positively glowed with health and his magic ran though his veins like crackling electricity, as if it was rejoicing in his return to the Land of the Living. His hair was downright lustrous looking and hung in a long curtain at least halfway down his back. He desperately wanted to cut it, but he’d first find out if Hermione liked it this way before making himself in any way less attractive to her.

 _Speaking of…_ Making a face, he pulled his lips back and checked his teeth. After the miracle she’d performed on his fine and grease-prone hair (that he generally allowed to be that way), he wasn’t surprised to see that she’d whitened and straightened his teeth. That, he would have done himself if she hadn’t already, no longer needing the unkempt and off-putting appearance he’d adopted to stop the older students from lusting after their young, dark, and powerful professor. (Seriously, he’d been bombarded by hot stares, accidental brushes of body parts, love notes, and trinkets when he first started teaching at only twenty-one years old, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t the most handsome wizard on the planet by any means.)

And since he’d had some integrity in him still, and wanted to keep his job for various reasons, Severus had taken measures to make the temptation provided by all those freely offering witches end. It had become a habit after a few years, and even when he may not have needed it so much once he’d reached thirty (a magic number where he was suddenly too ‘old’), he’d continued on with the vile attitude and poor hygiene choices.

_It will be strange to act like myself again - if I even recall what that was like - after so long. And yet, what better time than now to start doing so?_

Borrowing a black hair elastic from a pile of different coloured ones sitting in a bowl on the counter, Severus gathered his hair into a neatly folded queue at the nape of his neck and then he tilted his head to study the scars Nagini had left behind from her massive fangs. These, too, weren’t as bad as he was expecting. _Whoever healed me did a better than respectable job._

A quick glance down his body and a craned backward look at the mirror proved that all of his other, older scars were all in attendance, but even more faded, and that he was in fit enough shape with more meat on his bones than he’d seen since before he’d been forced to murder Dumbledore. He was also sporting roughly the same amount of muscles as his later teenage years, leaving his adult frame looking a little too lean still, but it was better than it could have been by a lot. Some proper exercise would help build more; be that going for a jog, or a swim in the ocean, or – if he was lucky – some mattress callisthenics with a certain wild-haired witch. _I wonder if Hermione likes to swim. Ocean callisthenics would also be beneficial,_ he thought with a truly wicked smirk. 

He was also relieved to note that nothing else of import had diminished in size during his coma and was definitely in working order.

_Need to stop thinking of getting it on with Hermione, or this is going to be a very uncomfortable few hours until she comes back… And she hasn’t even left yet._

The sound of movement in the other room proved that she was at least getting ready to do so.

“I’ll be out in a moment. I just need to use the loo,” Hermione said.

“All right. I’ll be waiting with Harry in the living room.”

At the warning of her approach, Severus quickly called a towel from the rack to hand and was tucking it in around his waist as the door opened and Hermione slipped in and closed it quickly behind her. Her hair had been mostly tamed into a long braid that hung over her shoulder, but wisps of hair were already escaping and framing her face in a becoming fashion.

Upon spotting him standing near the sink, she flushed, her eyes raking over him quickly as she closed the distance between them. “Merlin,” she breathed. “I still can’t believe you’re awake.” _And looking so bloody edible. How did none of us not notice that there was a walking sex god right under our noses at school?_

He was beyond flattered that she would think so of him, and it was all he could do to not beam stupidly at her. One day soon, he would tell her that he could read her thoughts in her eyes without the benefit of a wand or spell, but not just yet; his poor, battered ego was too busy being nursed back to health by her flattering thoughts. 

“Either can I,” he admitted, glad that he’d put on a towel to at least partially disguise how much her presence affected him, bulky knitted jumper and all. (At least that particular shade of forest green was appealing and complimented her colouring.) _Please tell me she chose that colour on purpose._ “I was very much expecting to not survive the war.”

The expression her lovely face fell into at that confession made his chest ache. And that was only amplified as she touched a hand to his bare skin directly above his thudding heart and wrapped the other around his waist in a hug as she rested her cheek beside her hand. “Well, I was able to save you with the potions you had hidden in your robes. You didn’t deserve to die.” Every whispered word floated against his skin with her warm breath and he shivered in her hold from the sheer pleasure of it. 

Severus had honestly never felt so alive as he did in that moment. He carefully wrapped his own arms around her shoulders and bent over a bit to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you,” he murmured into her hair that clung to his face like it loved him but was probably just being willful, like usual.

Their hug lasted for about one too-short but still blissful minute before she pulled back with every sign of reluctance. He wasn’t inclined towards letting her go either, but he did. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

Her smile was filled with longing as she turned to leave, but then quickly spun back. “Oh. You’re room is through that other door and there are clothes in the closet for you. And your wand is on the bedside table. Feel free to wander ‘round till I return. My home is yours.”

His, “Thank you,” this time was every bit as heartfelt, but came with a wide smile as well.

Her breath caught and her cheeks darkened as she stared at him with wide eyes for a second or ten, and then she was spinning around again and dashing out of the bathroom.

Severus stared at the now open door for too many pathetic seconds, waiting to see if she’d come back. But she never did, her footsteps retreating swiftly away instead. It felt like she was taking his heart with her.

 _Get a grip, man!_ he scolded himself. _Y_ _ou are not a pathetic Second Year in the grip of their first crush. And falling in love at first sight is just not done!_ Feeling thoroughly lectured by his stubborn and pessimistic side, he turned towards the second door in the large bathroom that he honestly hadn’t noticed before, as it was on the toilet side of the room and looked like it had been magically added in such a way as to not draw any attention. He was impressed. _Then again, I seem to be impressed by practically everything Hermione does. Always have been, to be honest._

_Maybe I’ve been falling all along and never known it._

On that startling thought, he pushed open the door that melded seamlessly with the patterned wall around it and found himself in a large bedroom decorated tastefully in dark wood with the odd Slytherin green highlight, such as the bedspread and rug before the fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls and were filled with own books, if he wasn’t mistaken.

It looked almost exactly like his bedroom at Hogwarts. 

One of the few exceptions was the glass doors on one side that led onto a huge balcony overlooking a fenced garden. The backyard looked well cared for and contained a greenhouse that he had a feeling would yield a plethora of useful plants.

He was astonished at the care Hermione had put into making him feel at home, especially considering that he may never have woken up from his coma. _And thus I fall a little further._

Shaking his head at himself, he walked to the closet that had replaced his wardrobe and opened the double doors. _Bloody hell, she wasn’t joking when she said there were clothes in here._ Not only did the closet contain almost every article his wardrobe used to, there was also a whole rack full of brand new robes and suits in his size and all in dark colours, including his favoured black. Another section of the massive closet held muggle dress shirts, jackets in various styles, trousers, jeans, and even some t-shirts. There was a dresser with assorted underclothes in it, some new, and a rack containing shoes and boots, most of which he'd never seen before either.

Severus was flabbergasted at the abundance. _Her generosity is apparently endless. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay her for everything she’s done for me, since I can almost guarantee that she won’t accept actual Galleons for it._

Feeling somewhat dazed, he exchanged his towel for undershorts and then finished dressing in socks, black trousers, belt, shoes, and a black silk dress shirt that felt positively sinful against his skin. He wanted to look nice for her birthday when she returned but not like her professor. They didn't need any further reminders of the past if he could help it. 

His next stop was at the bedside table, where he picked up his wand with reverent fingers. His eyes closed and a sigh of joy escaped as the familiar magic in the practically sentient Blackwood wand zipped up his arm and through his body in welcome. Anyone the wand didn’t like – which was practically everyone else on the planet – would have received a nasty shock instead for daring to touch it. As he tucked it up his sleeve, he had to wonder how the wand had reacted to Hermione, who must have handled it at some point. _Maybe I’ll ask her one day if she doesn’t mention it on her own._

From there, he stepped out onto the balcony that spanned the entire back wall of house (and his bedroom, as it turned out) and walked down the stairs to the ground level as twilight settled over London, which is where he assumed they were, wanting to get an overall picture of the house he was now living in without going to the front where he might be spotted.

Hermione lived in a three story row house made of red brick, and her back garden had clearly been magically expanded, considering it was at least four times wider than the typical crowded garden plot that came with such a house. This amused and impressed Severus as well, since the magic to consistently maintain such a large space wasn’t easy to do.

Curiosity had him visiting the greenhouse next, where he was pleased to find exactly what he’d expected to find; rows upon rows of healthy looking herbal plants, both muggle and magical. It was a potion masters’ dream supply, to be perfectly honest. He itched to explore the entire building that also defied its outward appearance in size, but refrained for the moment, having another goal or two in mind to accomplish first.

Walking back through the yard, Severus entered the house through the ground floor glass doors, which landed him in a dining room that sported a table large enough to accommodate a dozen bodies. _With the prolific Weasley’s as her friends, she’d need a table that big,_ he thought with an amused huff as he passed it.

Dining room flowed into modern kitchen and then into the comfortable looking living area, no walls between any of the somehow still defined spaces. He could see all the way to the big bay window at the front of the house, and though Severus found the open concept a little unsettling at first, he decided that he liked it. Off to the right, in front of the main entranceway, a set of stairs went both up and down.

Severus chose down first.

He found what he’d hoped to find; a potions lab. And not just any potions lab, but perhaps the nicest one he’d ever seen. Everything gleamed with cleanliness and was neatly arranged in a logical fashion. The shelves were well stocked with pretty much every ingredient one could possibly need, along with various sizes and makes of cauldrons.

_It’s official. I’ve died and gone to heaven. First an angel and now this? Merlin help me, but I’m never leaving this house again even if I have to pretend to fall back into a coma to do it._

Much like with the greenhouse, but worse, Severus was reluctant to leave his newfound haven, but he forced himself back up the stairs. And up the next flight as well. Here, he found a hallway that ran alongside his and Hermione’s bedrooms that ended in a guest bath at the end and a laundry room notched into the side of his bedroom beside the side wall of his closet. Hermione’s room was larger than his, and had to be the master suite. It also had a large bay window, which she’d turned into a very comfortable looking reading nook. He could see them employing the space together for decades to come if she was so inclined.

Despite the suddenness of it, he hoped so with every ounce of his being.

Back to the stairs and up to the next story. Here, he found a space set up for guests, with three smaller bedrooms containing either a queen sized bed or bunk beds, another bathroom, a small living area by the bay window that must run up the entire front of the house, and even a little kitchenette. The whole space felt unused somehow, like she didn’t have guests often. _Or ever._

_I hope my presence didn’t stunt her life._

Sighing, he went back to the stairs and climbed yet another set that ended in a door. The door opened onto the flat roof of the building. There was outdoor furniture under a wood frame gazebo and a hammock in a small garden plot that he had a feeling was her sanctuary where she could look up at the stars on warm nights. Everything he learned about Hermione via how she kept her spaces just made her more appealing to him.

A curious sounding hoot had him turning to look to the right of the doorway. He smiled when he saw a fancy owlery and then gasped as one of the two owls within hooted again and flew out one of the multiple windows to great him. “Elehootay! You’re here! And you’re still alive!” he exclaimed as the excited eagle-owl flew around his head a few times before landing on the proffered arm he held up for her.

She chirped at him as he stroked her brown and gold feathers and he cooed back in return in a nonsense manner he hoped no one ever saw him do. Severus was both amazed and not that the chick he’d saved when he was only eight years old was still with him after all this time, knowing she was now well beyond the average lifespan for an owl. But she was also infused with years’ worth of his magic, so just like a wizard, their favoured pets tended to live much longer than normal.

“It’s good to see you too, my beautiful girl,” he murmured as the bird nudged his cheek with her head. For him, it had only been a few days since he remembered seeing her last, but for the owl, it had been more than eight years. She deserved every bit of love and praise he could give her for remaining faithful to him all this time.

And the fact that Hermione had made a home for her with her own tawny owl (who was peering at him curiously from a window ledge), that just melted his heart a little more, because it was highly unlikely that she would have known who the strange owl was that had shown up at her house and undoubtedly refused to go away. Which meant that she’d cared for a strange owl out of the kindness of her heart. By the time the girl had arrived at school, no one there except for perhaps a few of the other staff members at Hogwarts had even known that he had an owl. The Malfoys would possibly have recognized her, since he’d been off and on friends with them for years as well. Other than that, he’d done his best to keep his faithful pet a secret so that she couldn’t be tortured by any of his enemies, even going so far as to use one of the school owls for casual correspondence.

He’d sent her to his home in Cokeworth when it appeared that the final battle with Voldemort was imminent for her own safety, knowing how protective she was of him. Voldemort would have killed her without a thought if she'd tried to interfere in his duty to die for Potter, and he'd refused to let that happen. How the bird had discovered his location after that when he was all but dead, he could only attribute to the innate hunting skills of the owl. _Which is why they’re used to deliver the mail in the first place_ , he supposed. _They can always find their query._

When Elehootay had had enough petting, she chirped her usual farewell and flew back into her home with her friend. Severus sighed, feeling pathetically bereft, and then he squared his shoulders and turned away as well. _Don’t get all maudlin now, Severus. The worst parts of your old life are finally gone and what remains is worth being happy for._

Pep talk done, he made his way back down the stairs all the way to the ground floor and to the kitchen with the intention of making something sweet and chocolatey for Hermione as a birthday present, remembering how much she adored the dark treat.

_I may be an unemployed charity case at the moment, but at least I can still be useful._


End file.
